They attacked the caravan, screamed someone close by.
And so it was. The highwaymen had chosen to attack during pre-morning sleep, when a body ripe with warmth is will-less and defenseless. They concentrated first on the guardians sitting night duty. They put up no resistance because they were not keeping vigil but were, instead, embraced by a deep sleep. They were hacked right away, in their sleep, next to the lifeless fire. One of them, who was fatally wounded, managed to shout and awaken the other guardians. The guardians, who were sleeping clothed that night, quickly rushed into action.
The highwaymen did not expect resistance. They were used to guards scattering in these situations, leaving all the goods for the attackers. But these guards did not scatter. They silently and fiercely resisted the highwaymen, fully waking up as the battle unfolded. The villains saw there would be no swift victory, and victory at any cost had not entered their plans. They decided to retreat after several of their men were lost, slain. A quiet command sounded and the highwaymen began leaving the caravan’s location. Several minutes later, the group of horsemen was already rushing east. Nobody pursued them.
Only when dawn fully broke was it clear how horrible the battle had been. Four slaughtered guardians lay beside the lifeless fire. There were no weapons in their hands, they simply had not managed to wake up. The bodies of three highwaymen were also found. Based on the form of the crosses they wore, it was determined that they were Russians.
The field of battle resounded with frantic screams. They would abate then begin again with an unhuman strength, for there was nothing human in those screams. Arseny headed toward the screams. A crowd surrounded the person who was screaming but nobody had resolved to approach him. The person was writhing in pain and rolling on the bloody earth, his guts fallen out and dragging behind him, gathering dust and pine needles. When the person straightened for a moment, from a spasm, Arseny saw the screaming person was the guardian Vlasy.
The crowd parted before Arseny when he took a step toward Vlasy. They had been waiting to see who would take that step. The fervent desire to help was embodied in the speed with which a path was made for Arseny, and how broad it was. Arseny stooped over the injured man. Vlasy, a man of few words, the kindly Vlasy, had turned to suffering flesh weakened from screaming. And Arseny asked himself if there was now a spirit in that flesh, and answered himself that it could not be that there was not.
Arseny cut the suffering man’s clothing with a sharp knife, baring his torso. He asked for some water. When a pitcher of water was brought, he ordered those around him to hold Vlasy by the arms and by the legs. He then lifted Vlasy’s guts from the ground and began washing them with a stream of water. He felt clots of blood and mucus on their slippery surface. Vlasy began screaming as he had never screamed before. Ambrogio touched Arseny’s back to support him but looked away because he did not have the strength to watch what was happening to Vlasy. Arseny placed the guts in Vlasy’s belly and wrapped it in linen. Several men lifted the wounded Vlasy and laid him on one of the carts, on top of the pelts. His head hung lifelessly. Vlasy had lost consciousness.
I see he will die in a short time, Arseny told Ustina, and I, my love, am powerless to help him. But now it will be easier for him to live out that time.
They decided to bury the dead guardians in the nearest Russian village, for the merchant Vladislav informed them that the Kingdom of Poland had Russian villages as well as Polish villages, particularly near the border. After thinking things through, they decided to take the highwaymen’s bodies, too, though they would be committed to the earth separately.
The caravan set off. The guardian Vlasy came to from the motion of the cart and began moaning. The jostling caused him suffering. Arseny approached the cart and took the miserable man by the shoulder. Vlasy lost consciousness again. When Arseny took his hand away, Vlasy came to and began screaming again. And so Arseny walked alongside him and did not remove his hand.
The caravan stopped when it reached the nearest village. Vlasy was exhausted from the jostling so they decided to leave him there. The merchant Vladislav went into the village because it was Polish. After several unsuccessful attempts to find a place for the wounded man, the merchant managed to come to an agreement with two elderly people. Their names were Tadeusz and Jadwiga and they had no children. These merciful people were willing to look after the wounded man.
Vlasy opened his eyes when they carried him into Tadeusz and Jadwiga’s house. When Vlasy saw Arseny at his bedside, he took him by the hand, for the pain slackened as long as Arseny was holding his hand. With only his lips, Vlasy asked:
Thou leavest me, O Arseny?
The merchants from the caravan looked at Vlasy, their eyes filled with tears. They understood that everyone had to leave with the caravan.
Lament not, O Vlasy, said Arseny. I wyll byde with you.
Arseny turned to Ambrogio. Ambrogio bowed his head. He went outside with the merchants and returned a short while later, leading two horses. Arseny and Ambrogio watched from Tadeusz and Jadwiga’s yard as the caravan solemnly went on its way.
Jadwiga wanted to cook porridge for Vlasy but Arseny stopped her. He would only allow the injured man to be given water. Ambrogio brought an earthenware mug to his lips again and again. Vlasy drank thirstily, not letting go of Arseny’s hand. He spent the afternoon in semi-consciousness. In the evening, he opened his eyes and asked:
Will I die?
Sooner or later we all die, answered Arseny. May that be a consolation to you.
But I am dying sooner.
A film slowly covered Vlasy’s eyes. Leaning over him, Arseny said:
The words sooner and later do not determine the content of occurrences. They relate only to the form in which they flow: time. Which Ambrogio reckons does not, in the final analysis, exist.
Arseny glanced back at Ambrogio.
I think, said Ambrogio, that it is not time that runs out, but the occurrence. An occurrence expresses itself and ceases its own existence. The poet dies at, say, thirty-seven years old, and when people lament over him, they begin debating about what he might yet have written. But perhaps he had already accomplished what he had to and expressed all of himself.
I do not know who you have in mind but that is something to think about. Arseny pointed at the dozing Vlasy. Do you want to say this boy has expressed himself already?
Nobody can know that, replied Ambrogio. Except God.
Vlasy squeezed Arseny’s hand with unexpected strength.
I am afraid to leave this world.
Do not be afraid. That world is better. Arseny wiped the sweat from Vlasy’s forehead with his other hand. I would leave myself but I need to finish something.
I am afraid to leave by myself.
You are not by yourself.
My mother and brothers are still in Pskov.
I am your brother.
So I came here to serve in the guard. To earn money. Why?
You have to live on something.
But now I do not have to. Do not let go of my hand.
I will hold it.
To the very end.
The dying man closed his eyes.
The first roosters, do you hear them?
No, said Arseny, I do not.
But I hear them. They are calling to me. It is bad that I am leaving without Communion. Without repentance.
Confess to me. I will take your Confession to Jerusalem and, I do believe, your sins will turn to dust.
But that will happen only after my death. Will that really count for me?
I am telling you: the very existence of time is open to question. Maybe there simply is no after.
Vlasy then began making his Confession. Ambrogio went out to the entryway, where Tadeusz and Jadwiga were sitting. They said something to him in Polish. Ambrogio did not understand what they said, but he nodded. He agreed with anything they said because he saw there were kind people.